


Stress Relief

by Virulent_Madness



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alien Biology, M/M, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, massage sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 14:13:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8492911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Virulent_Madness/pseuds/Virulent_Madness
Summary: Prowl gets tense and sometimes his plating gets a bit stiff. But Jazz knows how to fix that.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Alien biology means I can get creative when it comes to how you give someone a massage and help their muscles (or cables and gears) relax.

Jazz slid into the darkened room on light feet, a soundless tread not heard over the low thrum of Prowl's engine. The mech was limp on the berth, somewhat on his front and somewhat on his side with doorwings flopped down and protecting his back like a beetle's wings. He didn't move when the shorter mech soft-steppped into the room.

Visor dimming to low levels, the spy knelt on the berth carefully, his knee plates digging into the thick foam on the berth. It was a necessary luxury when it came to frame types with large protrusions like doorwings. Right now though, it was Prowl's chest that sank into the yielding mattress. Jazz tipped his helm to study the other mech as he slowly leaned over so as to be partially resting on the onyx black armor of Prowl's hip plating. Now he could see the Praxian's face, near blank with optics shuttered. He was more peaceful like this, than when he was working. And that's why they were here now. The mech worked too much, sitting in a chair in a single position for hours upon hours upon hours until his back struts were wound tighter than coiled springs.

“Yah look a'bit stressed out mech.” The special ops agent murmured lowly, sharp servos reaching out to dance along spinal plating. “All tense.”

No reply, other than the slightest shifting of armor as it relaxed slightly under Jazz's servos. 

A smile stretched across his face, growing to reveal canines and fanged denta as he straightened a little to get a better angle and started running his digits along Prowl's shoulder joint. A contented hum reached his horned audios. 

He gently tugged at the wiring junction where wings met back, claws scraping lightly under the edges of armor. Doorwings flared slightly to the side to allow Jazz more room to reach. Deciding that his position was a bit awkward, the mech got up and crouched behind Prowl, aft plating almost touching as he leaned forward to slide his hands along seams. The Praxian cracked open a dull ice blue optic to glance at the other mech before rolling fully onto his front, giving Jazz better access. 

He took full advantage of that. Practically laying on Prowl's lower half, the visored mech dug his small clever servos under larger armor plates and around the body defenses to reach the mess of little-touched parts underneath. Claws delved their way into Prowl's internals. 

That was part of his job; to know all the protected areas of different frame types and how to get around them. Now though, Jazz was using that knowledge to bring pleasure, not pain. 

“Hmmmm.” Prowl groaned in appreciation as the spy's hands tugged at a stiff alignment of joints, pulling them out of their stressed position.

Jazz shifted forward to reach the slim cylinders of the spinal strut, his hips bumping gently against the other's aft. Gasping softly when claws scritch-scratched along the rigid metal, the Praxian arched just a little and bucked backward. Gentle at first, Jazz started to grind against Prowl's back. Hums and blissful sighs responded as he pulled at delicate wiring and scored along the mech's spark chamber. 

Unabashed moan grew louder and Prowl arced rhythmically to grind back. 

Electricity zipped straight to Jazz's interface panel. Prowl's vents flared open to dispel heat, doorwings shivered as the mech panted and gasped. Jazz gave a low pleased rumble and moved his knees forward to shift Prowl's farther apart. His interface panel bounced against the hot plating. Huffs and gasps left his own vocalizer. 

“Jaaaazzzzz.....” Prowl keened softly with his helm thrown back and mouth falling open when the mech's servos wrapped around his transformation cog and nails dug into tense joints. The Praxian's interface panel snapped open, lubricant starting to collect around his valve lips while his spike pressurized. Jazz pulled his right hand out of Prowl's body, much to the mech's distress if the low whine was anything to go by, and wrapped it around the mech's hip to pull his aft higher into the air. Face-first in the pillow, Prowl quivered as a finger slid in. 

Soon followed by two fingers as Jazz worked him over. The other servo still explored the inside of the datsun's body as he finger-fragged him as well as he could in that position. Unable to resist, the spy let his panels slide open and his spike rubbed against valve lips. Soon Prowl was gasping and pushing back to get as much friction as he could. Lubricants dripped in gleaming pink drops down his thighs and onto the foam. 

Leaning forward, Jazz licked a line up the middle of Prowl's back. A pleasured mewl encouraged him to do it again which he did before straightening a little.

He rubbed his thumb across the outside node and got a buck in reply, “Ready mech?”

“Now.” Growled the writhing mass of doorwings and black and white plating. 

Engine revving hungrily, Jazz pulled both his hands back and grasped Prowl's hips before sliding in slowly. He enjoyed how wet and wam the mech was, calipers clamping down exquisitely on his thick spike. They both moaned when he was fully seated. 

Panting hard, Jazz pulled out partially before sliding back in. Lubricants dripped out to splatter on their plating. They quickly set a fast pace as the smaller mech dug his servos back into Prowl's body. Claws wrapped around internal wings cabling and pulled. 

Prowl howled, pain from stressed workings being forced out of position turning into pleasure as they finally relaxed while Jazz fragged him. His valve flexed, gripping the other mech's spike tightly and spasming. Harsh grunts echoed as claws pin-pricked sensors on the undersides of his plating. 

“Harder!” He snarled, pushing back as the spy railed into him, spike hitting the ceiling node of his valve. 

Prowl shook hard. His own claws tore into the berth and unintentionally shredded it. Electricity danced and crackled along their plating in thin lines. Jazz snarled loudly and leaned forward to clamp his denta on the mech's collar plates while Prowl's engine roared at the stimulation. His spinal strut creaked in defiance as it was tugged sharply. 

Charge was building faster and faster. Bucking, Prowl screamed when Jazz wrapped his claws around his shoulder struts and slowly started stretching them backward, as if he were trying to pull them right out of the mech beneath him. Prowl's valve clenched down automatically. Thrusting in as far as he could, the Porsche's engine revved loudly. 

Overload suddenly crashed into Prowl with the force of an avalanche, a static-filled and surprised shriek of pleasure ripping from his vocalizer as he writhed. Teeth biting down harder to holding the quaking mech, Jazz hammered into Prowl's spasming valve as it tightened. The visored mech couldn't hold back any longer. He pushed in as far as he could and roared as he emptied himself into the Praxian, the heat and sensation sending Prowl into another overload. 

They continued fragging gently until the last echoes faded. Slowly, Jazz released his hold on Prowl's neck and pulled his hands out. He groaned slightly as he withdrew and flopped next to Prowl. Rolling over so he could wrap his arms around the smaller mech, the SIC tangled their legs and tucked Jazz's helm under his. 

A happy warble replied as the mech shifted to get comfortable before whispering, “Earlier Doc told meh yah should see First Aid 'bout yer back platin' cause it was all stressed and stuck but ah told em ah would handle it.”

“I believe I prefer you handling it.” Came the honest reply as Prowl nuzzled him affectionately before they both fell into recharge.


End file.
